Hmm… PZ finds it sad, but I have a bit of a different reaction, to the Hallettestoneian Sea Zoria Dragons. The video (you can see it at either link) is one of the best examples of “do not make your video this way” that I have ever seen, but that is such a minor point. The video, and indeed the entire paleontological expedition, has the innocence of a child’s exploration of really cool rocks, before he or she gets told that there is a right way to do these things.

I fondly remember, from decades ago,
A boy mostly covered by dirt,
I would play with my friends in the forests or swamps,
Not stop until someone got hurt.
No video games and no organized sport,
We’d dig and explore in the field
Examine our treasures, excited to see
What each following foray might yield.
My brothers and I, upon one of these days,
Discovered a dinosaur find;
It was really just rocks, and of course we both knew,
Not a fossil of any real kind.
We invented a species; we found him a niche,
As a rock-eating, four-legged giant,
And dug up more pieces to fill in the blanks—
On rocks we were very reliant.
My mother taught high-school biology, so
She encouraged the way we explored,
And gave real information, which we could relate
To this dinosaur we so adored.
So now, when I look at Mike Hallett’s stone dragons
I’m more than a little bit jealous;
He’s doing what I did at seven years old
(And you have to admit, the man’s zealous);
He’s digging in dirt, and he’s making up stuff
About dragons from long, long ago,
Like a Peter Pan Paleontologist, maybe
He chose, for himself, not to grow.
Yes, maybe the man is a bit out of touch
And reality’s not his best friend,
But maybe he had the same fun as a kid
And just doesn’t want it to end.

…I was hoping Ms. Kern would get a chance to speak publicly. It really is difficult to know whether a clip on YouTube has been taken out of context, or highly edited, or entirely too accurate. So it is nice when someone can show up to rebut or confirm statements that they made. Especially in the case of Sally Kern, where what she said was so vile.

Anyway, here she is, on local television in Oklahoma. The show is “Flash Point”, on Channel 4, Sunday mornings at 9:30. This show was last weekend–Easter Sunday. Sally is a guest in the first two segments, along with Pastor Scott Jones of the Cathedral of Hope in Oklahoma City. The pastor happens to be gay, which on the face of is suggests that Sally’s view of homosexuality and Christianity as being incompatible is… not a unanimous view. (It is worth watching.)

Seems that Sally said nothing wrong. Her analogies–Cancer, Terrorism, for instance–were poorly chosen. She only means to say that the homosexual lifestyle is deadly to the country, that if not eradicated it will grow and lead to the death of christianity and our country as we know it. But that, of course, is not hate speech.

I don’t know which would be more offensive–to have Sally say these things, knowing full well that they are hate speech, or (as seems to be the case) to have her utterly oblivious to the fact that an unfavorable comparison to cancer and terrorism might…just might…be seen as offensive.

Oklahoma’s Channel Four
Invited Sally Kern once more
To clarify her stated views,
Which everybody misconstrues.
And so, on Easter Sunday morn,
That target of such global scorn,
Ms. Kern sat down to set us straight
And speak to us of love, not hate.

The moderator, channel 4’s
Own Kevin Ogle set the course,
Reminding us that Sally’s speech,
Because of YouTube, now could reach
The far-flung corners of the world
Where anti-Sally flags unfurled.
He said that her remarks “enraged
The gay community”, then assuaged
Our fears by saying he would search
For common ground where we could perch.
(In truth it was not only gays
Who found a fault in Sally’s ways—
To frame it as he did was wrong,
But for the while, let’s play along.)

The panel guests this Easter were
Ms. Kern, and then across from her,
Scott Jones, an Oklahoma pastor;
Both held Christ as lord and master.
(Just one thing more, I think I may
Have left the bit where Scott is gay.
That might mean squat to me or you,
But Sally has a different view.)

She had the chance to make amends,
But rather, Sally Kern defends
Her homophobic comments. Great.
At least, she claims, it is not hate.
And there she may be right, you see—
It may be plain stupidity.
Her ignorance of science might
Explain why she’s convinced she’s right.

Polite and calm was Pastor Jones,
He asked of Kern, in even tones,
If it was hate, or maybe humor,
Saying gays were like a tumor.
“Oh, no, no, no!” came Sally’s answer;
“I don’t mean gays are really cancer—
Just that we must stop their spread,
Or if we don’t, we’ll end up dead–
See, cancer in your little toe
Can travel to your brain, you know.”
So gays are not true mutant cells,
According to what Sally tells,
She only meant that, to grow old,
The spread of gays must be controlled.
There’s no hate there she can discern,
Just metaphor from Sally Kern.

Her choice of words, the pastor urged,
Showed she thought gays ought be purged;
Compared to cancer? Terrorists?
These words are hateful, he insists,
The words she chose are worse than vile
But Sally Kern is in denial.
She says that isn’t what she meant,
Those weren’t the feelings that she sent.
She loves the gays as much as you—
Just hates the evil things they do.
When gays join in democracy
Where moral people used to be
It hurts the nation, we must learn
From moralists like Sally Kern.

It’s nice that Sally Kern can speak;
We’d only thus far had a peek
At her beliefs, but now we see
She says the same things on TV.
She does not try to hide her views,
So next time, voters, when you choose,
Recall the words that Sally said,
And wonder what is in her head—
It could be hatred, but you see,
It could just be stupidity.

I hope the latter. Folks can learn.
And that’s my wish for Sally Kern.

So P-Zed was getting all moon-eyed and silver-tongued over parasites. Parasites that live in the kidneys of cephalopods, getting their nutrients from urine, much like Sally Kern. Anyway, his love letter to these beasties is a wonderful example of the passion that scientists have for their work. Uncovering the mysteries of the natural world does not take the beauty out of it; rather, knowledge enhances our appreciation for everything in the real world. In the words of Douglas Adams (who said nearly everything better than nearly anyone else did), “I’d take the awe of understanding over the awe of ignorance any day.”  If you are one of those rare readers here who do not already read Pharyngula, I seriously recommend following the above link to see that principle in action.

But as a cuttlefish, I was a bit miffed. “Oooh, aren’t they lovely!” “What an elegant illustration of evolution at work!” “Much more lovely than mere puppy dogs!” Hmph. Think of the cephalopods! Won’t somebody, please, think of the cephalopods?

So that’s what I was sensing! As discomfort was commencing,
Inflammation in my kidneys as I swam in the abyss
Was where parasites were feeding, and (in both their ways) were breeding,
And now Myers, metaphorically, joins in to take the piss.
A biologist, his duty is to rhapsodize their beauty
But a little sensitivity is all a ‘pod can ask!
Yes, I get that it’s exciting–I can see that in his writing–
Guess I only wish he didn’t take such pleasure in the task.
“O dicyemid mesozoan”, while inside my pain is growin’
“Let me count the ways I love you”, like this parasite is heaven
Then the dude proceeds in counting, while my agony is mounting,
And he doesn’t stop until he’s all the way to fucking seven!

Oh, for those who wonder about these things–this one was one of the verses that might as well have been self-writing. Less than 15 minutes, and it came out in final form. I love it when that happens.

Ok, I wasn’t going to post this, but what the heck… Pharyngula’s nice light fluffy topic of the morning is, sorta, whether war is part of the nature of humankind, and whether we can conceivably put an end to it.

Well you ask “What’s the purpose of war–
All the bombs, and the bullets, and gore?”
Though we all know it’s wrong
We’ve been at it so long
We’ve forgotten just what it is for.

One answer that’s there on the table,
Though I’m fully aware that it’s fable:
As descendents of Cain
We make war, in the main,
Just because we can’t stop–we’re not Abel.

Or, perhaps, it is all in our genes,
Although no one knows quite what that means
Is the dominant trait
Disposition to hate,
Or a fondness for noisy machines?

Are we programmed for war in our head?
Is it just that we’re easily led?
I think we should strive
To find out, while alive,
Cos it’s surely too late once we’re dead.

Can we change predilection for fighting
For something else, just as exciting?
The next border dispute,
Try an alternate route–
Say, competitive limerick writing!

Any comments not in limerick form will, of course, be deleted!!!

As reported on Pharyngula, a common prescientific mythology is making strange bedfellows these days. This time, the Turkish Islamic anti-Darwin movement is aided and abetted by American fundamentalist Christian conservatives. No, really. Yeah, I had to read it twice, too.

Well, it’s not like that’s an area of the world where Christians and Muslims have had any history of strife, at least. *ahem* Yeah. well…

Creationists of every stripe—
The people who can stomach tripe—
Have joined together in defense
Of Faith opposed to evidence.
Islam and Christianity
Throughout the course of history
Have rarely been the best of friends
But now, it seems, their fighting ends.
Has someone finally seen the light,
And seen the reasons that they fight
Are foolish little arguments
That anyone with common sense
Could see are not worth fighting for?
Cos that would be exciting! Or
Has something posed a greater threat
Than anything encountered yet,
Through centuries of outright war?
(Remember, what they’re fighting for
Is their religion—and what’s odd
They share the Abrahamic God!)
Well… sorta. They have joined to fight
The most disgusting in God’s sight;
The ones who stoop so awfully low
And challenge what these theists know—
That’s right, those dreadful scientists
Are now the scourge that tops the lists!
The U.S. Christians on the right
Have joined together in the fight
And arm-in-arm with Muslim Turks
They fight the growing threat that lurks
In science classrooms everywhere!
Why, you can look, if you should care
From elementary school to college,
Anywhere they’re spreading knowledge:
If fact and logic help you choose,
You threaten our religious views!
Holy wars, crusades, jihads,
Are minor things. This threat to God’s
The greatest of the present dangers,
Making allies out of strangers.
So join me, fighting science, brother—
Tomorrow we can kill each other.

Early this mornin’ the snow was fallin’
I’d just crawled outta bed
Wond’rin’ if I could find the coffee
While my eyes were still red.
The newsman said, as he always does
The day was gonna be rough
He never could find any happy news
And my paycheck’s never enough.
And I was sittin’ at the kitchen table
Havin’ some breakfast pie
Looking out on the internet
And I stumbled on this Guy, you know who,
Tangled Up In Blue.

He had posts about water-boarding,
Poverty, Death, and Abuse
Political dancing all over the world
Where the Devil’s gotten loose
Pointed out laws in 43 states
Where shove has come to push
And gays must sit in the back of the bus
While the driver, mister Bush,
Who’s looking out for his legacy
(Which doesn’t stand a chance)
I have to wonder, when he’s with Cheney,
Which one leads when they dance, the pas de deux,
On Tangled Up In Blue

(in other words, the Carnival of the Liberals is up on Tangled Up In Blue Guy. And he included my entry!)

I had completely forgotten about this little verse, a comment on PZed’s review of Ken Ham’s book on Darwin’s alleged racism. But over at Quintessence of Dust, where I am quite flattered and honored to be mentioned in this week’s Weekly Sampler, I find to my surprise that people actually read and remember the stuff I forget. So I am overjoyed to repost it here, just in case Pharyngula ever burns down, or gets popular enough that comments get lost among hundreds of others (yeah, right, like that could happen).

The rhyme scheme on this one was a lot of fun, now that I think back on it a bit. So thanks, Q of D, for the jab in the ribs.

Although to verse I’m not averse
(Oh, no, perverse is what I am)
With phrases terse, I could do worse
Than share the curse of tainted Ham.

In rhyme or prose, well, goodness knows,
I could compose this tale of mine;
And thus expose the growing nose
And lying pose of Kenneth Swine.

We’re all aware he does not care
If truth is rare in what he’s writ;
He says a prayer for public glare–
He’s happy there, as pigs in shit.

Although he’ll write that Black and White,
If Darwin’s right, are different species
He takes delight, producing quite
(To be polite) a load of feces.

He knows he’s wrong, but bobs along
Among the throngs of simple minds
There must be strong stuff in his bong
That makes him long for deep-fried rinds

It’s no surprise his book of lies
Sees truth’s demise in every word
If facts arise, they’re in disguise–
Complete with flies, this one’s a turd.

If you look really closely, as I have resolved,
At Boards of Education,
You’ll see hidden creationists; some have evolved
A protective coloration.

Some wear their belief upon their sleeves
And some choose not to wear it–
But sometimes you’ll see what one believes
By the phrases that they parrot:

“I think it’s fair to teach both sides”
“Evolution is ‘just a theory'”
“With freedom of speech, then who decides?”
“Just think of the children, dearie”

And just as we can identify birds
By the calls of hens and drakes
We can sometimes tell creationist turds
By the sound stupidity makes.

A tip o’ the cuttle to PZ, here.

Coturnix has asked (here) for me to submit one or more of these verses to the Science Blogging Anthology. If any readers have favorites they would like to lobby for, I would appreciate any feedback at all; I do not consider myself to be a particularly good judge of my verse.

And if you have no comments on that in particular, feel free to say hi anyway! I think you need a blogger account to comment, but they are free and simple, so come on in, the water’s fine!

It’s late November, time for giving thanks–
But thanks to whom? For me, this question ranks
Among the more important we can ask;
To answer, I’ve assigned myself the task.
Tradition holds we should give thanks to God.
In fact, your average person finds it odd
That anyone would even think to question
Whom to thank–but still, my bold suggestion:
Thank the ones who really did the stuff
That God gets credit for. There are enough
Deserving people we can thank, without
Inventing gods to steal their praise or pout.
“Thank God for all the bread we have to eat.”
Instead, I’ll thank the ones who grew the wheat,
And ground the flour, baked and sold the bread;
Why God, when I can thank these folks instead?
(Is God behind it all? I rather doubt;
So many other farmers suffered drought,
And watched their crops disintegrate to dust;
A God like this is not one I would trust.)
“Thank God my sister’s cancer’s in remission!”
Absolutely not. With no contrition,
Thanks go out to doctors, and to nurses,
To those who opened up their hearts and purses,
Friends who volunteered their time to cook,
Or feed her cats, or bring a favorite book
For her to read. Oh, yes, and thanks
To perfect strangers who gave blood–the banks
Would not be there without your precious gift;
By thanking God, we’re giving you short shrift.
I’m thankful to (not for) the ones who taught
Her doctors what they know. I also ought
To thank those who invented the machines–
Like X-rays, MRI’s–that gave the means
To find the lump before it was too late.
It’s people whom I thank. Not God. Not fate.
“Thank God for soldiers fighting in Iraq,
And keep them safe from enemy attack.”
Remember that they’re fighting those who kill
Because they disagree about God’s will.
If anything, this God should take the blame
For all the crimes committed in His name.
I do give thanks to soldiers–to, not for–
Their sacrifice–not God’s–the cost of war.
“I’m thankful for my friends, both near and far.”
I’m thankful to you–you know who you are–
For being there at 2 AM to talk,
For movies, beers, for joining me to walk
Along the beach to watch the rising tide
And setting sun compete–which one would hide
Our footprints first? We stayed to watch the moon
Rise over silver waves–then left, too soon.
I can’t thank God for that, when it was you
Who made it such a lovely thing to do.

I could go on, and fill a book or two
With thanks. I won’t, ‘cos this will do.
One more is all–if you have read this far
Then thanks to you, no matter who you are,
For reading. Let me leave you with a thought:
This Thanksgiving, thank the ones we ought;
Thank your friends and family–those you love,
Before you thank some made-up God above.